


Happy Halloween, Mister Stark

by frostysunflowers



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bonding, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Slice of Life, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, no sad endings here folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-31 19:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21246209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostysunflowers/pseuds/frostysunflowers
Summary: The first time Peter and Tony spend Halloween together, it isn’t exactly planned.Tony just sort of...shows up, knocks on the door and grins wide when Peter opens it.''Mister Stark? What are you doing here?''
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 58
Kudos: 397





	Happy Halloween, Mister Stark

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Writing another slice of life fic full of fluff and sweetness? Don't be ridiculous...
> 
> ...yeah okay, I had to see October out with a bit of Irondad softness. This is actually a mishmash of a number of little drabbles I had written here and there but wasn’t sure what to do with. Enjoy!

The first time Peter and Tony spend Halloween together, it isn’t exactly planned. 

Tony just sort of...shows up, knocks on the door and grins wide when Peter opens it. 

''Mister Stark? What are you doing here?''

Tony whips off his sunglasses and cocks an eyebrow, leaning against the open door of the Parker apartment. ''What, a guy can’t stop by to check in on our resident friendly neighbourhood spider-ling?''

Peter doesn’t quite smile but his shoulders relax a little. ''Y-yeah! That’s fine, totally, I was just, uh…'' he gestures lamely over his shoulder. 

Tony cranes his neck to look and sees what can only be described as the aftermath of a vicious pumpkin dissection covering the small dining table by the far window. There’s a sickly sweet smell in the air and another glance at Peter reveals traces of pumpkin innards clinging to his shirt. 

''Damn, kid. Remind me to never ask you to carve the turkey at Thanksgiving.''

Any potential levity falls flat as Peter’s face turns sad and a blush stains his cheeks. Tony doesn’t understand the reaction but he feels a tug of something unpleasant in the pit of his stomach at the forlorn glaze to Peter’s eyes. 

He wants to leave, turn tail and rush back down the stairs and as far away from this situation as fast as possible. 

Instead, he hears himself say, ''Pete? You alright?''

Peter nods sharply, a weak smile appearing on his face that isn’t at all convincing. He invites Tony in and hurries into the kitchen to fix him a drink, something Tony only accepts the offer of in the hope that it will help the kid calm down a bit. 

As Peter rattles around, Tony examines the mess on the dining table. Hunks of pumpkin flesh lie in big lumps on top of soggy paper towels, along with an assortment of knives varying in degrees of sharpness. There’s three pumpkins in total on the table, each one more mutilated than the first with the middle one bearing the closest resemblance to something like a face, if you can count one gigantic eye and a gaping hole for a mouth as a face. One untouched pumpkin rests on the chair, silently awaiting its fate. 

Peter appears beside him and holds out a glass of orange juice. ''Pretty bad, aren’t they.''

''I’ve seen worse,'' Tony replies, taking the glass. ''You know, the week after Halloween when they’re all lining the sidewalks looking mouldy and gross.''

The sense of relief he feels when Peter softly laughs is so intense, he takes a gigantic gulp of the juice to cover the smile pulling at his lips. 

''My Uncle Ben and me, we always used to carve pumpkins together, the day before Halloween. 'Cause, y’know, if you put them out too early around here, someone will come along and steal them or kick them down the street.''

It hits Tony then, the reason why there’s such sadness looming over Peter like a dark cloud. This would be, based on the information Tony dug up on him before Germany, the first Halloween that Peter won’t be able to spend with his uncle. 

''That’s...that’s smart thinking, kid,'' Tony mutters, trying to ignore the dismay he feels for his earlier Thanksgiving comment. 

''This is, um, the first time I’ve done without him,'' Peter continues, glancing away from Tony’s face. ''He was always best at the actual carving.''

Tony nods, though the gesture goes unnoticed. He’s in way over his head here. Since the fiasco with the plane, he’s made a point of being around more, checking in on Peter, inviting him over for lab days and generally offering his support where it’s needed. Lately, there’s even been the odd burger after school. 

He’d stopped by tonight on a whim, whatever the hell that whim was he has no idea, but he’s here now and he’s sure as hell not getting out with just a few pleasantries and maybe a handful of early Halloween candy. 

He narrows his eyes at Peter who looks up with a tentative smile, all polite and unsure, and sighs as he lowers his glass to the table so he can start to remove his jacket. He’s not by any means trying to muscle in on the turf of a man whose absence has left a huge hole in Peter’s life, but as far as he can tell, the kid could do with the company. 

''Well,'' Tony says with a sniff, ''I’m not really one for carving pumpkins, but I’m sure I can’t do any worse than these,'' he waves a hand at the ruined pumpkins, ''monstrosities. Seriously, Pete, it looks like you went at them with a damn chainsaw in the dark.''

''Hey!'' Peter laughs, previous smile spreading into a big grin. ''It’s a lot harder than it looks!''

Tony grabs one of the knives. ''Step aside and let the master work, Underoos.''

A little while later, after utterly decimating the last remaining pumpkin, Tony and Peter head down to the grocers on the corner and manage to pick up the last two pumpkins left on the rather pitiful display. They’re grossly misshapen and starting to soften around the stem, but it only seems to add to their ghoulish appearance after Tony and Peter manage to carve wonky eyes and wobbly smiles into them. 

The next night, just as he’s settling in to watch some ridiculously awful slasher movie with a visiting Rhodey, Tony receives a message from Peter which reads _**happy halloween**_**_ mr stark!_ **

Tony flicks his phone and a projection of two pumpkins, their wonky eyes and wobbly smiles glowing with soft candlelight, appears before him. 

A grin lights up his face and he chuckles softly at the image, feeling a burst of warmth somewhere in his chest. 

''That from your kid?''

Tony thumps Rhodey on the arm without looking away from the projection. ''Not my kid, sourpatch.''

Another picture comes through, this time showing Peter and his buddy (Ted? Fred?) dressed up as Luke Skywalker and Han Solo, sporting huge smiles and flashing their thumbs up to the camera. 

The warmth in Tony’s chest washes all over him. 

Rhodey snorts. ''Not your kid, my ass.''

Tony pointedly ignores him as he types out a reply.

** _Happy Halloween, Underoos. _ **

* * *

The second time they spend Halloween together, exactly a year later, it’s a bit more organised. 

Tony’s in the lab, singing along with the music blaring throughout the room, when FRIDAY suddenly lowers the volume to be heard. 

_''Boss,_ _Peter Parker is approaching the main entrance.''_

Tony looks up from the disassembled suit he’s working on. ''He is?''

_''He appears to be in some sort of disguise and is currently speaking to Dum-E.''_

''Huh. Tell him I’ll be there in a sec.''

Tony can’t help but grin to himself as he steps into the elevator. After driving Peter home a week ago and spying numerous doorsteps already covered in Halloween decorations, many of which moved in horribly boring and sluggish motions that made Tony cringe, he had decided that a little Halloween decorating of his own might be rather fun. 

He didn’t go too overboard, just a few hundred strings of skeleton fairy lights, some spooky strobe projections and a few grim reaper dolls attached to sticks that made them whirl around. 

And Dum-E, parked right next to the door, dressed in a white sheet with holes poked into it for his claw to fit through, allowing him to clutch a gigantic bucket of candy. 

Tony had mentioned it to Peter the other night, half hinting for him to come over and check it out if he was in the area whilst out treat or treating with his friends, but he hadn’t really expected the kid to actually do it. 

Which was a foolish thought considering this was, well, _ Peter. _

Tony exits the elevator and approaches the main doors, grin growing wider as he sees Peter chattering rapidly to his friends and waving his arms animatedly through the glass. 

''Well, well,'' Tony says as he steps outside, ''what do we have here?''

Peter’s blood-splattered face lights up at the sight of him. ''Hey, Mister Stark! Happy Halloween!''

''You too, kid.'' He gestures to Peter’s zombie costume. ''You’re looking...disgusting.''

''Thanks!'' Peter plucks at the tattered shirt that he’s wearing. ''We used corn syrup for the blood.''

''Nice,'' Tony nods with approval, then turns his eyes to the axe murderer who is gaping at him. ''Good to see you again, Ted.''

Peter rolls his eyes. ''It’s Ned, Mister Stark.''

''Y-you can call me whatever you want, Sir!'' Ned practically shouts, earning a withering stare from the girl standing beside him. 

''You must be MJ,'' Tony deliberately flashes his best mega-watt smile, trying not to laugh at the narrow stare she gives him in return. She’s wearing a considerably normal outfit, consisting of jeans, a sweatshirt and a hooded jacket. ''What are you supposed to be?''

''Homicidal maniac,'' she says. ''They look like everyone else.''

Her face remains serious but there’s a little spark in her eyes that Tony immediately likes. He nods approvingly once more, then leans back as Dum-E swings the bucket of candy dangerously close to his head with a distressed whine. 

''What? No I don’t want the candy, Dum-E, it’s for the trick or treaters. You know, the small people in costumes?''

''We’re not small!'' Peter protests, patting Dum-E through the sheet as he whirls the bucket back round, accidentally tipping candy onto the ground. 

Tony flaps his hand dismissively. There’s more children approaching now and he’s keen to get back inside before he inevitably gets spotted and the paparazzi start to descend. 

''Tell you what, kid,'' he says, clapping Peter on the shoulder. ''When you and your pals are done terrorising people for candy, why don’t you come back over and I’ll order us a couple of pizzas?''

''For real?'' Peter asks eagerly, sharing an excited grin with Ned. Even MJ looks the slightest bit keen. 

''Yep,'' Tony nods and gives him a gentle push. ''Go on, go pester poor innocent people on their doorsteps and show off your gruesomeness. I’ll see you later, yeah?''

He folds his arms and watches with a small smile as the trio head off, giving a brief wave when Peter turns and throws one back at him. 

Later that night, Tony sits with quiet contentment while he eats pizza with Peter and his friends. He pokes fun at the truly terrible movies they each choose to watch that lean more towards gross than frightening and helps himself to some of Peter’s candy, sharing a grin with the kid as he does so. 

He pulls up outside Peter’s apartment after dropping Ned and MJ home later that night and manages to swipe one last piece while the kid is unbuckling his seatbelt.

''Hey!'' Peter clutches his bag close to his chest. ''I worked hard for that.''

''Oh, please,'' Tony snorts, chewing loudly. 

''I did! This blood took ages to get right, you know.''

''Sorry, kid,'' Tony rolls his eyes. ''I’ll never speak ill of your devotion to candy collecting ever again.''

Peter smiles at him, warm and happy, and suddenly Tony finds himself being pulled into a quick, shy hug.

''Happy Halloween, Mister Stark.''

''Uh...Happy Halloween, Underoos.''

Then Peter’s opening the door and rushing away, leaving Tony to sit quietly for a minute or two until he sees the lights in the apartment turn on before driving away. 

* * *

The first Halloween after Thanos isn’t acknowledged at all. Too caught up in a turbulent spiral of grief that shows no signs of ending, the world pays it no thought at all.

The second Halloween also passes without much fanfare, save for a few tame horror movies showing on the odd channel here and there, mostly one where most of the actors are still currently alive and breathing somewhere on the planet. Tony doesn’t even realise the date until two days after. 

On the third Halloween, Pepper dresses Morgan up in a pumpkin costume and sits her in Tony’s lap with a kind but pointed look. It’s impossible for any significant date to pass, any meaningful moment to occur, without Peter springing to the forefront of his mind. But as a happy Morgan gives him a big grin, Tony lets himself enjoy the moment just a little bit more than usual. 

The following year, Morgan and Tony cover the kitchen in chocolate frosting and googly eyes and rainbow sprinkles in their attempt to make some spooky themed cupcakes. Pepper, too in love with the smiles on their faces, doesn’t even have the heart to be mad. Happy ends up taking at least ten cupcakes home, even though they taste rather unpleasant. Tony leaves one on the windowsill and lights a candle, sparing the stars outside a look that rapidly becomes tearful before joining Pepper on for a late dinner. 

The fifth Halloween occurs only a few short days after the Battle of Earth. Tony lies unconscious in a bed, his skin scorched and his arm a mangled mess, wires leading out from all over and various machines beeping in an out of tune chorus with his vital signs. He doesn't know it then but Peter sits by his bedside the entire day, holding his remaining hand, and begs for him to wake up. 

* * *

The Halloween after that doesn’t just include Tony and Peter. 

The drive-in they go to is a hubbub of bright lights, grumbling engines and lively chatter, growing louder and louder as more and more people pull in, eager and impatient to get started. 

Rows of cars stretch along in not quite uniform lines. Doors hang open and heads poke out of open windows and truck beds are turned into makeshift mattresses with masses of pillows and blankets to ward off the delicate hint of a chill in the early evening air. 

In one of the trucks hired by Tony just for the occasion, Peter pulls his hood up over his curls while Tony and Rhodey fidget restlessly beside him. 

''Can you move?''

''Can you not be a pain in my ass?''

''I wouldn’t _ be _a pain in your ass if you moved.''

Tony continues to halfheartedly shove Rhodey, though his attention is now on Peter because even now, he still isn’t quite over just looking at him, of just being able to look at him and see him for real, not a ghost or a faint image of some memory that hurts too much to properly recall. 

He watches as Quill, perched atop the cab of the truck with Nebula, nudges Peter and wiggles a bag of popcorn temptingly. Peter shakes his head while Tony points to the bag of gummy worms clutched in Nebula’s metal fingers. She gives him a not so menacing glare but quickly relinquishes them when he smiles sweetly at her. 

Rhodey elbows Tony in the side again and Tony rounds on him with a pouting glare. 

''That’s it. Don’t even think about trying to hold my hand when you get scared.''

''I don’t _ want _ to hold your hand.''

Tony gasps loudly, now fighting a grin. ''Why? What’s wrong with my hand? Are you handist? Is that what this is? Is it ‘cause it’s metal? How very dare you, honeybear, you know how sensitive I am.''

Rhodey drops his head into his hands, laughing around a hysterical moan. Tony continues to nag him, not pausing even as he offers Peter the bag of gummy worms before passing them back to Nebula. 

''Hey, space fairy,'' Quill hisses at Thor who is sitting with Bruce and Steve in the bed of the truck beside them. ''Can you throw over some sodas?''

Thor clutches the cool box close to his chest like he expects Quill to leap over the gap between the trucks and do battle for the contents within. 

''Look, I said I was sorry about the whole accidentally ejecting you into space thing.'' Quill moans. ''I mean it’s not like you can’t survive out there or anything.''

Tony snorts as Thor eyes Quill moodily for a moment before passing a few cans along to Bruce who throws them over. Peter accepts one and cracks it open to take a long swig. 

''What is this movie even about?'' Steve asks. 

''Just wait and see, Cap!'' Tony calls over. ''You’re gonna love it.''

''It’s totally scary,'' Quill adds around a mouthful of popcorn, flicking a piece at Tony when he turns to raise an eyebrow at him. ''Saw it so many times before I went into space. Freaked the shit out of me every single time.''

''Weren’t you just a kid when you got abducted?'' Rhodey queries.

''Yeah. What’s your point?''

Nebula looks at Rhodey questioningly. ''Is this suitable for terran children?''

''Definitely not,'' Rhodey scoffs while Tony shakes his head. ''It caused mass hysteria when people saw it for the first time.''

Nebula eyes the screen doubtfully. The silhouette of a man standing beneath a streetlight in front of a house isn’t the most terrifying of images, but Quill gives a mock shiver anyway. 

''Is this suitable for you?'' she questions Peter, making him laugh. 

''Yeah, I’ll be fine.''

''Oh, I don’t know, Underoos,'' Tony smirks teasingly as he turns back round, resettling himself against the pillows. 

''Old movies aren’t scary.''

''I’ll remember that when you tell me you can’t sleep later.''

Peter glares even as his mouth twitches. Tony grins and gives him a little nudge just as the spotlights dim, creating a ripple of cheers. 

''About damn time,'' Rhodey tucks a blanket high up to his neck, ''we’ll be lucky if we don’t freeze our asses off tonight.''

Everybody settles down, shuffling pillows and blankets here and there, and soon a hush falls over the whole place as the movie gets going. 

It’s cheesier and more ridiculous than Tony remembers, but he enjoys it anyway. About half way through, as he’s reaching for another bag of sweets, Tony feels Peter’s eyes lingering on his face and turns to look at him. 

''Feeling spooked, kiddo?''

Peter shakes his head before leaning it onto Tony’s shoulder. 

''Nah,'' he whispers. ''Just...glad you’re here. Glad we’re here.''

Tony tucks his arm around Peter and kisses his hair. ''Me too, Pete.''

That warmth he felt all those years ago, that very first year they spent together carving pumpkins and sharing awkward but happy grins across the table, returns tenfold, filling him all the way up. In the last year, the smallest of moments, the simplest of pleasures, have meant the most; a novelty that only comes from gaining back what once was lost and never expected to return. 

Even this, just a Halloween night sat under the stars with a movie playing on the big screen, is enough to make Tony tear up with happiness. He closes his eyes and waits for the wetness to subside and presses another kiss against Peter’s head, feeling that familiar rush of love like he always does. 

Peter weaves his fingers under Tony’s jacket and tugs on the side of his hoodie, a silent sign that he’s feeling the same thing. 

Then Steve starts laughing and the moment is broken. 

It’s not a quiet chuckle or a gleeful snigger, but his full-body air rumbling howl that has him tipping backwards with his hands on his chest, mouth wide open in merriment. 

''Oh, god,'' Tony mutters as Rhodey leans forward and says ''What the hell is he laughing at?''

''It's - '' Steve wheezes, gesturing to the screen where all manner of deranged havoc is taking place, ''just - so ridiculous!''

''Hey, pipe down over there!'' Quill hisses and throws a handful of popcorn across the gap, only succeeding in sprinkling Bruce’s hair with the stuff. 

Peter starts giggling too, the sound muffled against Tony’s side. It makes him vibrate, shoulders jiggling with mirth, and that’s enough to set Tony off. He tries his best to hold it in, hiding his face in Peter’s hair, but then Rhodey makes a choking noise and he erupts with laughter. It’s enough to make everybody else crack, even Nebula whose laugh sounds lighter than Tony ever expected it to. 

Though they succeed in incurring the wrath of every other person at the drive in and are subsequently asked to leave, both Tony and Peter agree later on, as they’re fixing themselves mugs of hot chocolate in the kitchen, that it’s the best Halloween they’ve had yet. 

* * *

The year after that, they go camping in the woods by Tony’s cabin. Marshmallows are toasted, stories are told with torches held beneath chins and Tony goes to sleep in a tent with Peter burrowed into his side like an oversized caterpillar, cosy and safe. 

Then Thor hears a noise in the trees and goes to investigate and doesn’t return for ages, resulting in a situation that Tony likens to a ''damn Scooby-Doo episode,'' complete with panicked running through the trees and Rhodey taking a fist to the face when he scares Quill by bumping into him. 

It’s a long night and Tony goes to bed cold, exhausted and missing his mattress. 

He can’t complain too much though, not when he wakes up the following morning to a grinning Peter, still dishevelled from sleep, and Morgan bouncing excitedly in her pyjamas and clutching a rather squashed bag of uneaten marshmallows. 

* * *

Halloween falls on a week day during Peter's first year at MIT so they can't spend it together in person. Tony, knowing how homesick the kid is, sets up a video link so they can watch Ghostbusters with each other, doing his best to lighten Peter's mood when he sees how sad the kid looks. 

''Don't worry, bud,'' he promises, ''when you're home, we'll eat enough candy to put us in a sugar coma and watch all those god-awful slasher movies you and Ted love screaming at so much, deal?''

He's rewarded with a quiet but genuine laugh and it's enough to lift his own spirits just a little. 

''Sounds great, Tony.''

Tony makes good on that promise and the resulting sugar hangover that leads Pepper to placing him on a food health kick is totally worth it. 

Even if the kale smoothies taste absolutely revolting. 

* * *

And so it goes. 

Year after year without fail, Halloween is a holiday that Tony and Peter celebrate together no matter what. 

Some years it's a small affair, just the two of them watching movies or snacking on too much candy. On one occasion, they drag Happy and Rhodey to a horror marathon at a state of the art movie theatre and proceed to irritate the two men through the entire thing.

Sometimes Ned, MJ and Peter will escort Morgan out trick or treating while Tony and company wait patiently for them in a restaurant somewhere, burgers and shakes at the ready. Other years feature big parties full of music and dancing and fabulous costumes - Morgan and Peter dressing up as milk and cookies (at the request of a very insistent Morgan) is one of Tony's most favourite memories. May takes about a thousand pictures and Tony has at least a dozen of them framed and placed all over the cabin, one in nearly every room. 

Then there's the year where Peter dresses up as a bat and Bucky helps slingshot him across the lake using some webbing, nearly giving Tony a heart attack. 

Still, what's Halloween without a few scares every now and then?

Time ticks along, Tony’s hair becomes more grey and Peter grows taller; the movies of choice change as do the costumes; life moves on as it should but what remains the same is that rush, that burst of unbridled happiness that hits Tony every single year when he glances at Peter and finds him looking back with a knowing smile on his face. 

It’s their thing, their moment, one they get to share with the people they love the best, and Tony knows that for the rest of his life, he’ll never take it for granted. 

And it doesn't matter how much time passes or how they celebrate or who with, they always end the day in exactly the same way as the first:

''Happy Halloween, Mister Stark,'' Peter will say long after he's started using Tony's first name; when he's twenty and flying through college; when he's twenty five and planning on proposing to MJ; when he's thirty and clutching a curly haired toddler to his hip. He'll say it with that typical Peter smile on his face, the one that Tony adores right down to the marrow of his bones, his constant reminder of how sweet life truly is. 

And Tony, without fail, every single year, will always grin back at him and say ''Happy Halloween, Underoos.''

**Author's Note:**

> I do in fact have a fair bit of flangst lined up in my wips so I think I’m justified in posting such sappy softness haha.
> 
> Happy Halloween, everybody! Thanks for reading - kudos and comments appreciated :)


End file.
